


out of my mind

by zavynthrius



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cheating, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, Mystery, Past 2jae, Past jinson, References to Depression, Self-Harm, beware these tags ok!!, established markjin, everyone is cheating at this point, god where do I begin with this, ik it sounds boring but i swear its interesting, lots of lies have fun, one-sided markbum?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-01-06 13:33:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zavynthrius/pseuds/zavynthrius
Summary: Jaebeom barely interacts with Mark Tuan, despite the fact that Mark is engaged to marry his best friend Jinyoung in two weeks. Maybe it’s because he was more Youngjae’s friend than his. Maybe he reminds Jaebeom too much of himself.It’s only a problem when Mark   shows up at his house at midnight,  that Jaebeom has the unfortunate pleasure of getting to know him in more ways than one.





	1. intro

**Author's Note:**

> this has been banished to my wips for close to a year now,, and for good reason. note:  
> >> greater than signs are jb receiving texts  
> << less than signs are jb sending texts.

Jaebeom, usually, likes listening to people’s problems. Something about problem solving makes him think he should have become a psychologist. Or a mathematician. Or set a Rubik’s cube world record. Like Jinyoung, he’s a gossip monger, but nowhere near as obsessive about it. The problem is, once people spill their guts to you, they tend to expect you to do the same. Jaebeom isn’t in for that sort of emotional commitment. This is why Jinyoung is his only friend. 

This is also why he’s okay with the buzz of his phone interrupting his chord progression creation. At 11pm. Not because he’s lonely- the bass line was feeling flat anyway. He internally bets it’s Jinyoung, using his sixth sense to sense he’s awake and tell him to go to sleep. He turns it over. It’s Mark.  
>Hey. you awake? 

Mark? Well, this is unexpected. And weirdly _casual_. Jaebeom can’t say he really knows Mark that well. Though, in the few times he third wheeled his and Jinyoung’s outings, he knows Mark is a bright sort of person. He always has a smile on his face, ready to giggle at Jinyoung’s lame jokes that Jaebeom _knows_ Mark doesn’t find funny. In the situations where Jackson has enough connections for a party, Jaebeom finds himself a wallflower with Mark. It’s not like they haven’t talked before, but Jaebeom never knows quite what to say to the guy. Which should be weird, since he’s engaged to be married to his one and only friend in two weeks, but there is a palpable distance between them. Despite this, Jaebeom can’t deny he’s curious; if not a decent, _caring_ human being.  
< Hey. What’s up?

Mark types a bit then erases it. Just when Jaebeom thinks maybe Mark ghosted, he sends a paragraph.  
>I need your advice on something. A few days ago Jinyoung came home after spending the night out with Jacksonand he was acting off. I just thought it was coz he was hungover. Then I found hickeys that I know I didn’t give him. I trust him but I know he and Jackson have history  
>I don’t know what to do  
>im meant to marry him in 15 days

Jaebeom is speechless. Did he read that right? _Jinyoung?_ Cheat on _Mark?_ He scooches out of his computer chair and flops back on his bed. What the fuck? Is this some sort of elaborate plan to uninvite him from Jinyoung’s stag-do? (If Youngjae has an invite, this is definitely _not_ Mark typing this shit.) He rereads it. Mark wants some advice.  
< Have you told Jinyoung you think this?  
>no.  
>should I?

_No. No you shouldn’t, maybe because Jinyoung doesn’t do that sort of shit,_ Jaebeom wants to say. Jaebeom has observed Jinyoung’s love life since its inception. He can be competitive, insensitive, and even manipulative at times- but he doesn’t backstab. He was on and off with Jackson for the longest time, but he never cheated on him. 

Jinyoung and Jackson have history, sure, but they’re just friends now. It’s probably just Mark getting cold feet, and trying to find a reason to chicken out (if it is Mark? Yeah, Youngjae hated punctuation with a passion.)

< Don’t worry about telling him.  
< Advice? Jinyoung is obsessed with you, highly doubt he would go and cheat on you. When he gets drunk he rants about how “stupidly perfect” you are. Just trust him.  
>ok.  
>thank you.  
Jaebeom switches his phone off. He reaches over and shuts his laptop, sinking back into the queen mattress. It’ll blow over. 

Mark texts him 20 hours later, in the early evening to confirm, in fact, it has done everything _but_ blow over.  
>have you heard anything from Jinyoung ?  
In all honesty, Jaebeom hasn’t heard a peep. And that’s normal when Jaebeom doesn’t have work- he’s holed up in his apartment. Jinyoung is the type who shows up unannounced.  
< No. Why?  
>you know how you said I shouldn’t bring it up with him  
>i really didn’t mean to but it kinda slipped out and he lost it at me...  
>Then it got really heated and He hit me. He’s never hit me before. i don’t know what to do.  
>He wouldn’t say where the hickeys are from, and after he literally said he was gonna go stay at Jackson’s for a while  
>im not enough for him.  
>fucking hell  
>Sorry. You probably don’t care . i’ll just. Idk. go cry.

He rereads it. Then he rereads it again just to be sure. Where the fuck does Jaebeom begin with this? Jinyoung can get angry, but he would never intentionally _hit_ anyone. Sure, he got into a brawl with Jaebeom, but that was _once_ in the sixth grade, and they had been pining over a figurine that Jaebeom suddenly got by chance. That was their worst brawl, but they were _eleven_. If anyone was throwing punches, Jaebeom would have guessed it was Jackson. He’s opinionated, competitive, and has a surprisingly short temper. Jaebeom found this out the one day they barely avoided a fist fight over the last slice of pizza. 

In any case, he’s not about to call Mark a liar, but Jinyoung does _not_ hit people. He could be overdramatising Jinyoung shoving him or something.  
< No it’s okay.  
>he doesn’t fucking love me.  
>Fuck me Jaebeom why am I marrying him  
< Did he say that?  
>He’s at Jackson’s. Again. 

He’s not listening. Jaebeom imagines Mark is chewing his fingernails like Jinyoung does when he’s anxious, or kicking an inanimate object like Jackson does when he’s frustrated.  
>Has he ever hit anyone before?  
Jaebeom puts his phone down to sigh into his hands. He has honestly tried to keep an amicable distance, but at this point he can’t take it anymore.  
< No. To be honest, I don’t believe that he hit you.  
>Just answer please.  
< Then no. He hasn’t hit anyone before. He can get angry, but not violent.  
>thanks. Thats all I wanted.  
Mark doesn’t care that Jaebeom doesn’t believe him? Weird. He doesn’t text anything else for the next few days, and Jaebeom assumes it’s finished.  
Jaebeom assumes wrong.

>should I call it off first  
>?  
>Save time waiting?  
Jaebeom rolls his eyes. Mark and Jinyoung have had their tiffs before, but it’s never lasted this long. Jinyoung is the type of person who waxes poetic about soulmates, and complains every single minute that he’s single. At least, that’s Jaebeom’s explanation for the weird love-you-love-you-not thing that happened with Jackson. He’s had his fair share of breakup theatrics from those two to last a lifetime.  
< I wouldn’t even be worried.  
< He’ll realise he can’t live without you and come crawling back on his knees. He’s just being stubborn.  
>I guess you’re right. 

He’s not certain if Mark is really reassured. This is all kinds of weird. Usually Jaebeom can understand Jinyoung inside and out, but the fact that he hasn’t gotten an _I’m coming over_ , or even a dramatic _fuck me_ is questionable. Jinyoung is the only person he trusts with his own problems, and even then it’s because Jinyoung wheedles it out of him. Jinyoung spills his guts to Jaebeom because he loves to rant. Going off of what Mark has told him is irritatingly far from the amount of information Jaebeom usually receives. He’s at least sure he didn’t hit Mark. Jaebeom really hopes the hickey thing isn’t real either, but he’s not as sure as he’d like to be. Best case scenario, it’s a big misunderstanding, and it’s messed Jinyoung up so badly that he’s holed up at Jackson’s stuck drinking kale protein smoothies and green tea for a few days. That’s it. He’s serious about Mark. It’s obviously got him beyond broken.

Jaebeom doesn’t hear anything from Mark or Jinyoung that night. His notifications are still void the next day, so he assumes it’s under control. 

Jaebeom is wrong again.


	2. chorus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is why I had to add the dubcon tag... there’s no verbal consent they’re just thinking with their dicks

Nearly midnight on the third or fourth day of the Mark-Jinyoung fiasco, there’s a knock on his door. Jaebeom almost doesn’t hear it over the music blaring in his headphones, but it’s there. An unsure four knocks, then three. Jaebeom pauses the song, and reluctantly gets up to check the front door. He creeps up to the peephole, thankful he doesn’t have any lights on. This isn’t the usual banging, and subsequent _Jaebeom I know you’re awake let me in_ type of “”knocking”” Jinyoung is guilty of. He looks into the peephole. 

It isn’t Jinyoung. It’s Mark. The fisheye effect isn’t flattering, but Jaebeom can see his eyes shifting around, and his shoulders hunched. Before he can think, he’s unlocking the handle, and pulling open the door. Jaebeom internally praises himself for beingl too lazy to take his shirt off yet, as a gust of cool air rushes in. 

Mark flinches as the front door creaks. His demeanour is dimmer than usual. This isn’t the bright and cheery Mark he knows. He’s wearing a green turtleneck (which Jaebeom remembers Jinyoung wearing on occasion), and yellow tracksuit pants- obviously a throw-anything-on outfit. His frayed brown hair sits messy atop his head. His lips are dry and bloodied, and his eyelids are puffy. He has his arms crossed, hands hiding in his armpits. As he makes eye contact with Jaebeom, he smiles thinly.  
“Can I come in?” he asks, barely a whisper. Vapour trails after his words. Oh. He’s cold.  
“Sure,” Jaebeom answers, stepping aside. Mark lets out a long puff of air, and hugs Jaebeom.

Jaebeom pats his back after a moment, taken aback. Mark pulls back forcefully.  
“Sorry. Getting ahead of myself,” he chuckles, but there’s no energy behind it. His lips pull into a painful smile. “I’ll just... I don’t know,” he rakes his hair back.  
“You okay?” Jaebeom asks genuinely, closing the door. Mark shakes his head, wiping his eyes with the heels of his palms, face screwing up.  
“He won’t answer any calls, and neither will Jackson.” Just when he huffs like he might have it under control, he mumbles, “I’m so stupid,” and he’s sobbing.  
“No you’re not. Come in,” Jaebeom steers him in to go sit on the couch. 

He flicks the kitchen lights on so he doesn’t trip on anything. Thank fuck he did the house-cleaning yesterday, or cat hair would still be strewn across the tiles like a rug. Mark falls into the old leather like he lives there. His sickly complexion comes into focus as Jaebeom takes a seat beside him, choking trying to get his breathing under control.  
“Sorry,” he blinks rapidly.  
“Don’t say sorry. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”  
“It’s just... I know we’re not really friends or whatever, but...“ the words die on his tongue. 

But what? He sighs in frustration. “Never mind. You don’t have to entertain me,” he snivels, shuffling out of the chair.  
“It’s what Jinyoung would want me to do,” Jaebeom says. “Sit down.”  
Mark doesn’t move, but he doesn’t resettle himself.  
“Fuck Jinyoung. What do you want to do?” he says, redding eyes looking up to study Jaebeom’s reaction. 

_Fuck Jinyoung_ huh? Maybe Mark did break up with him while he was ahead, and now he’s just angry without an outlet. What does Jaebeom want with Mark? Mark takes his silence as disinterest, and stands from the sofa.  
“It’s fine. I have to go home anyway,” his voice tightens. _No,_ Jaebeom thinks. He can’t explain why he says the next words so softly.  
“Just stay.” 

He doesn’t actually know why he cares this much. It’s nothing to do with Jinyoung. If it was, he wouldn’t have opened the door. Mark is just so _vulnerable_. It’s uncomfortable for Jaebeom. The man in front of him who only ever texted to politely check details of the next meet-up, is more fragile than glass. Mark wipes his tears away with the back of his sleeve. He’s embarrassed. “Stay. It’s too cold out there to be going home.”  
Mark’s straight brows relax, and he covers a yawn.  
“You know I have a car. It’s not that cold,” he says.  
“Well, you can’t drive tired either.”  
“Okay,” Mark says after a pause, falling back on the couch with a thud.

The sound of Jaebeom’s clock ticking fills their silence. “So,” Mark says ambiguously, tapping his knees.  
“Why did you come here? If you don’t mind me asking,” Jaebeom says. He’s polite, but to be completely honest, he hates smalltalk with a passion. Mark’s face falls.  
“I don’t know. I just thought- I couldn’t stay. At home. Jinyoung’s shit is everywhere and it all reminds me of him,” he snivels. “Do you have any tissues?” he turns a sob into a pathetic laugh.  
“Yeah, hang on,” Jaebeom stands up, circling around to the kitchen pantry. There’s a few unopened boxes up on the top shelf. He grabs one, then another for good measure. When he gets back to the sofa, Mark is gently patting his eyes. Jaebeom places one of the boxes in Mark’s lap, and the other on the coffee table. 

“Thanks,” Mark’s lips stretch into a smile, but it never reaches his eyes. Jaebeom shrugs, and takes a seat at a respectful distance. He goes through a few tissues before he seems to really settle down. “I’m so tired,” he sighs. “Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? When someone suddenly doesn’t love you anymore? You can’t sleep ‘cause he won’t get out of your mind. It’s not that lovey-dovey stuck in your mind thing. It’s like everything you did wrong, playing in your head on a loop. Like it’s your fault he... he left.”  
“Yeah,” Jaebeom breathes out. His chest is uncomfortably tight, like he’s strapped too tightly in a life jacket. “That’s... that’s what it feels like.”

“What should I do?” Mark asks flatly, gaze unfocused. “I didn’t know I was going to be angry, but I am. I’m so _angry_. I’m angry at him for leaving without an explanation. I’m angry that I even told him anything. I’m angry that I’m angry, y’know? I shouldn’t be angry. I should be sad, I should be so fucking sad, but I’m so tired of being sad, y’know?” 

Tears slide down Mark’s face, but he has given up wiping them away. He just holds a scrunched up tissue over one of his eyes. Jaebeom doesn’t know either. So many facts are missing. He can’t tell if Mark still loves him, if Jinyoung still loves him back, and what chance they have together. All he has are Mark’s feelings, which hit too close to home. “Sorry,” Mark whispers.  
“No,” Jaebeom starts, “Stop apologising. It’s not your fault.” Mark gives him a curious side-glance. The stupid kitchen fluorescents catch in Mark’s honey eyes and make them sparkle. “Sure, Jinyoung can be an asshole. You have every right to be angry. But you have to remember, it was his choice to get angry and walk out. You didn’t force him to react like that, did you?”  
Mark shakes his head. “So it’s up to you then,” Jaebeom continues. “You can go to Jackson’s house, and tell him to stop moping, and take you back. You could also just cut ties and move on,” Jaebeom says. Mark stares straight into Jaebeom’s soul. Something about eye contact makes Jaebeom uncomfortable, but he needs to see Mark take his words seriously. He needs to know he can do something other than shatter into millionths. Mark breaks away first, taking in a deep breath.  
“You’re right. Thank you.”

Jaebeom’s studio apartment is one bedroom, one bathroom. He rarely has guests that platonically (not that Jaebeom gets any romantic guests either) stay over, so he doesn’t have much choice but to bundle Mark up on the couch. Mark insists he’s fine, huddling around the tissue box with blankets up to his neck. If Mark has any troubles, he should wake Jaebeom. Jaebeom flicks off the lights and feels his way around to his room. He’s too tired to analyse what the fuck Mark is going to do, how this changes their relationship, if Mark expects Jaebeom to reciprocate the same vulnerability. It’s too much for this time of night. 

At who knows what hour, Mark wriggles on his bed beside him.  
“Hm? Need something?” Jaebeom asks, grunting to get his vocal chords working.  
“It’s cold. I can’t sleep,” Mark whines, syllables drawn out in a tired-delirious fashion. Jaebeom rolls his eyes and stumbles out to find any more blankets. Though, Jaebeom is a furnace himself, so he doesn’t exactly have any more blankets to offer. Maybe it’s how skinny Mark is, skin and bones in the harsh elements. Jaebeom puts the measly top sheet he found on top of the vacant nest. He doesn’t know if it’s because he just woke up, but it’s not cold, and he doesn’t even have a shirt on. He slips back into his room expecting to have to rouse Mark, but he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs. He stands with a sigh, posture hunched as he shuffles toward Jaebeom. 

“Are you really cold?” Jaebeom whispers. Mark comes to rest his head on Jaebeom’s shoulder, nestling into his neck. His hair tickles Jaebeom’s ear.  
“Come on. Bed time,” Jaebeom takes his shoulders and sways him out of the doorway. Mark wraps his arms around him as hard as he can, Jaebeom’ skin prickling from how cool Mark’s arms are. He cries into Jaebeom’s shoulder, blunt nails pressing into his back. Maybe not yet. Jaebeom pats his back, swaying him slowly left and right like a mother does for her baby. This long embrace is a little like a slow dance, something way too intimate for two just acquaintances. 

“Jaebeom,” Mark breathes, taking a few moments to steady himself. He peels himself off of his shoulder to peer up at him. As Jaebeom’s eyes adjust, a grey stain to Mark’s cheek comes into focus. He didn’t expect to feel anything, but his stomach drops as Mark stares straight into his soul.  
“Where did that come from ?” Jaebeom asks, brushing it gently with his thumb. He might call it a makeup smudge, except Mark made a point of washing his face. Mark shivers under his touch.  
“I... tripped. Into the car door,” he says. Bullshit. The bruise would look more like a line then, but this is wide, uneven, stretching from under his eye down to the apples of his cheeks. Like a slap.

“Don’t bullshit me. And don’t say it was Jinyoung...” Jaebeom can’t finish his sentence in front of Mark’s watering eyes. Jinyoung doesn’t hit people. He’s not violent. Mark shivers again.  
“I can’t sleep. I’m so fucking tired, but every time I close my eyes, I see him. I just wanna forget him. How do I forget him?” Mark asks, palming away tears, careful of the bruise. Jaebeom doesn’t know how to comfort him. If it were someone he didn’t know, he would probably tell him to leave and move on, if it’s causing him this much pain. But it’s Jinyoung. Mark blinks slowly, eyes barely opening due to how puffy they’ve become.  
“Time,” Jaebeom answers. Mark snorts. “And friends. When Youngjae broke up with me, I lived off pizza and sleep for a week, until Jinyoung came and told me I stunk. And then he came over every day to check on me, keep me busy,” Jaebeom tries. Mark smiles bitterly, and Jaebeom takes the pause to scramble for something else. “Just... pretend I’m that Jinyoung. The nice Jinyoung. Stop thinking about him.” 

Mark sighs, the air fanning out over Jaebeom’s neck. It looks like that might be the end of the tears for now. Jaebeom expects Mark to rest on his shoulder again, but he leans in and kisses Jaebeom. Jaebeom’s mind grinds to a halt, as they step back against the wall. There’s no fire behind it, light and lazy as Mark nibbles at Jaebeom’s lips. This is his best friend’s fiancé. Ex-fiancé? It’s too messy to be made even messier. 

“What are you doing?” Jaebeom reels back, voice jumpy. Mark looks everywhere but his eyes, arms sending little electric shocks into Jaebeom’s skin as he slowly pulls away. Is he... pretending Jaebeom is Jinyoung? Jaebeom studies him, fully awake and honestly a little panicked. Mark bites his lip and his face screws up kind of like he’s going to cry again.  
“Sorry,” he says to Jaebeom’s neck. What kind of mood swing is trying to kiss someone after crying?

It clicks. That’s what Jackson does when he’s not in a good place- he throws himself at the nearest person to drown his thoughts out. Jaebeom hates that he even remembers that. The moment that comes to mind is the awkward outing where Jinyoung went to the toilet, and Jackson shit-talked him for three minutes straight, but when Jinyoung came back, there he was in his lap. Sucking drunk face. Whatever it was, there was clearly nothing behind it. The one moment Jaebeom interrupted Jackson’s rant was to ask why the fuck he even came along, to which Jackson answered _because I can still kiss him, duh._ A distraction. An inclination Mark must have picked up from Jackson. 

“You shouldn’t do this. You haven’t broken up with Jinyoung-“ Jaebeom starts, but Mark interrupts, “Fuck Jinyoung. I can do whatever, and whoever, I want. I want you.”  
It sends chills down Jaebeom’s spine. Mark leans in, watching Jaebeom for rejection with his pupils blown wide. This is really fucking stupid, but he can’t bring himself to reel back. Mark’s lips are dry, maybe a little salty from crying. As far as Jackson was concerned, it was just kissing. No further.

As far as Mark was concerned, it wasn’t limited to _just kissing_.


	3. verse 1

“So,” Jinyoung says, twirling his chopsticks, “I’m an asshole now?”  
Jaebeom doesn’t even know where to begin. Jinyoung cornered him and dragged him out for Chinese a few days after Mark came over. He isn’t pouting and sulking, so Jaebeom assumes he’s either gotten over Mark, or they’re back to together.  
“What?” Jaebeom says, feigning confusion.

“Mark told me you said I’m an asshole. I’m hurt, but I should have expected this betrayal,” he says, picking the beans out of his blackbean noodles. Jaebeom rolls his eyes, but his stomach still flips. What else did Mark tell Jinyoung? The dreams he’s been having of Mark sleeping beside him have haunted him since. It’s also weird, sitting in front of _the_ Jinyoung. Jaebeom is supposedly in the presence of an violent domestic abuser, but he still looks like the harmless mom-friend Jaebeom knows him as. 

“You know what I mean. You are sometimes,” Jaebeom shrugs, not daring to give anything away. Jinyoung just rolls his eyes. “And Mark told you? You guys talking?”  
“Mm. We’re back together,” Jinyoung smiles, dreamer eyes crinkling into crows feet.  
“That’s good. I was worried I was going to have to deal with your sad, single ass another year.”  
“I didn’t complain _that_ much. You just wanted to make fun of me while you and Youngjae had cute dates.” Jaebeom shakes his head, unable to hide his smile. 

There’s no way Jinyoung could have hit him, much less have been cheated on him. Jinyoung talks about Mark like an old man that has been married for half a century; a decent dose of sarcasm, and yet still head over heels. Jinyoung is a creature of habit, but he would probably jump out of a plane into the fires of hell if Mark batted his eyelashes. He cancels plans at the drop of a hat for Mark. This is why Jaebeom agreed to getting dragged out. Jinyoung can’t simultaneously be a bitch-slapping psychopath as well as the most dedicated lover to walk to earth. Jaebeom doesn’t want to suddenly see him differently because Mark got in his head. And his pants. (Fuck.) Because Jinyoung would never cheat on the love of his life, no matter how piss drunk.

“Hey,” Jaebeom says, scraping his noodles into the corner of his own container. He doesn’t know how to approach this. Maybe gently.  
“Hm?” Jinyoung looks at him readily.  
“Mark seemed to think you cheated on him with Jackson.”  
Jinyoung frowns. That was not gentle at all.  
“Of course he does,” he says, face stony.  
“What? He said you came home with hickeys, and you’d been at Jackson’s.”  
Jinyoung stares hard at his plastic container, probably trying to figure out what the fuck Mark is on about. Jaebeom doesn’t know either. He’s just glad he didn’t stutter. The memory of Mark whispering _please... ah... don’t leave any marks_ has burned itself so vividly onto Jaebeom’s brain.

“You know I would _never._ I don’t know what he saw. Ingrown hairs from waxing my fucking chest hairs?” Jinyoung waves his chopsticks about.  
“I know you wouldn’t,” Jaebeom says. “I’m just trying to understand why the fuck Mark would say that shit.” (Jaebeom has a few ideas already. Number one: sex).

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung confesses. “I don’t- I was so drunk. I don’t remember anything about that night. I don’t know how to prove it to him that, hey, I’m actually a loyal partner! I can’t believe he said that. The amount of times I was on my knees, giving him the blowjob of his life-“  
“Jesus Christ, that is too much information,” Jaebeom says. Jinyoung rolls his eyes.  
“You get what I mean.”  
Jaebeom does not, but he doesn’t want clarification. Jinyoung sighs, his shoulders slumping. “No matter what I did, what I said, I got the cold shoulder. Then we exploded.” 

And then he ended up in Jaebeom’s bed. He can see it now. Jinyoung crying his eyes out, the most destroyed he’d been since their last fight. Which was a year ago, featuring Mark’s car breaking down on a busy highway because they both refused to refuel it. Jinyoung’s face was red raw, eyes ablaze, frown etched deep into his features. Jaebeom knows, because Jinyoung burst through his door at 10 pm to rant. Jaebeom doesn’t want to imagine his face if he found out Mark got more than emotional support from Jaebeom. In Jaebeom’s pathetic defence, Mark was convincing. The waterworks. Shaky voice. All the hesitation. The bruise. The _bruise_.

“Mark said you hit him,” Jaebeom blurts out. Jinyoung’s face is a spectacle, contorting from pure shock to confusion.  
“He _what?_ No! Why would I hit him?”  
“I don’t know! He had bruise right here and blamed it on you,” Jaebeom points to his own cheek. Jinyoung sits with mouth wide open in shock. He’s speechless for what feels like a minute. 

“Please tell me your joking, because it’s not funny anymore,” Jinyoung says, face in his hands.  
“That is literally what he said.”  
Jinyoung makes an anguished noise.  
“He told me he ran into the car door,” he says.  
“What?”  
“I don’t know if I can do this.”  
“Do what?”  
“This _wedding_.”  
“Jinyoung, what do you mean _he ran into the car door?_. It’s a big, flat bruise, on his _cheek_. It’s not a car door bruise.”  
“You think I don’t know that?” Jinyoung scoffs. “Of course he didn’t run into the fucking car door.” Something in the window catches his eye, but when Jaebeom looks, there’s nothing. Just the ivy from where it grows on the exterior twisting in the wind. “Did you know Jackson lost his job?” he says, face completely blank. Jaebeom swallows hard.

“No?”  
“Me neither,” Jinyoung says. “You want to know who knew? Mark. That week he was giving me the cold shoulder, he was mostly over at Jackson’s. Moral support. Then he just comes home one night with this big, blue mark on his face. That’s the night I lost it at him. Of course, that’s how I find out Jackson lost his job, but not how he got that bruise.”  
It sounds like an ugly fight, Jaebeom will admit that. Something just doesn’t feel right. Why doesn’t Jinyoung know where the bruise comes from? Why did Mark tell both of them it’s from the car door? 

“Why would he... why would he tell me you did it?” Jaebeom asks.  
“Let me ask you something,” Jinyoung says abruptly. “Why are you so interested in defending him? I thought you guys hated each other.” A chorus of _he knows he knows he knows he knows he knows_ rattled around Jaebeom’s head.  
“Hey, I didn’t mean to imply it _was_ you. You and I both know it’s not,” he says. His mouth is drier than the Sahara. “And I never hated him. We just don’t have a lot in common.”  
Jinyoung fixes him with a cold look. Chills go down Jaebeom’s spine. “What? You didn’t even tell me you guys broke up. What else was I supposed to believe?”  
“Broke up? It was bad, but we never said it was over,” Jinyoung laughs without feeling. “Though now I say it, I think I wish we did.”

Jaebeom can’t breathe. All he can hear is _he knows he knows he knows,_ until it gets drowned out by _he lied he lied he lied he lied_. It’s so loud, he only catches the end of what Jinyoung says, “I’ll sort it out tonight. If he’s still cold with me after it, don’t engage him.”

He doesn’t know what to feel.


	4. prechorus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey whats up guys welcome back to another instalment of my bullshit :) enjoy!

It's in the silent hours of the night that Jaebeom realises something still doesn’t make sense. The bruise.  
>Hey Jackson.  
< sup?  
>Do you happen to know how Mark got that bruise? No one is being honest with me.  
< what bruise??  
>The big ugly one on Mark’s face?  
< what!?  
>Have you seen Mark since the weekend?  
< no!? Jaebeom what’s going on thsi isn’t funny bro  
>Nothing. Just make sure Mark is icing it properly.  
>And sorry about your job.

What a fruitful conversation. And that’s about as far Jaebeom dares or venture into his contacts for answers while he’s sober.

Jaebeom wishes he could say he’s surprised, when Mark texts him the next day, but he isn’t.  
>Hi  
Jinyoung’s words play in his head like a warning. _Don’t engage him_. What a great policy. He isn’t in the mood to either. He was on his feet all day at work, and he just wants some peace and quiet. He ignores the message to change into a warm pyjama top.  
>I’m scared  
He waits to see what he types next.  
>He came home and went off at me  
>I don’t wanna get hit again.

 _Liar_ , Jaebeom wants to type. For once, he doesn’t care. It’s not his problem to solve, not his relationship to fix. He doesn’t want to open back up to Mark. Especially not when he knows Mark is a liar.  
>Jaebeom?  
>So you’re ignoring me huh  
< I don’t trust you.  
>Why?

Jaebeom’s heart is beating too fast. He shuts his phone off to gather his thoughts. All that not caring didn’t last very long, he thinks, and slips under his bed covers.  
< Did you tell Jinyoung  
Jaebeom hits send too fast, but it’s not like he really wanted to actually type the rest. Don’t show Jinyoung your phone, he prays. He’s usually good at keeping secrets, a human lockbox. The problem with this one is it involves someone else. It’s probably going to his grave, but it’s going to be hard to keep it that way. Jaebeom knows he can keep his mouth shut, but if Mark slips up even the tiniest bit, Jinyoung will pry it out of him. It’ll be game over.  
>No. Why would I want to make this worser that it already is?

Don’t engage him. Jaebeom doesn’t approve of cheaters in any sense, but in regards to Jinyoung’s kiss with Jackson? Bad, but compared what Mark did, he has no right to complain. Jinyoung and Jackson were drunk. Mark was sober.  
Jaebeom was sober.

He swiftly flicks his phone on silent. He doesn’t have any choice but to trust Mark, and trust he doesn’t want to start anymore shit. For all Jaebeom knows, he could wake up to Jinyoung and Jackson bashing his head in, if Mark spins the story his way.

Thankfully, he doesn’t. He wakes up to Mark’s babbling of other texts, and the final,  
>You’re ignoring me. that’s cool.  
Jaebeom gets up and goes through his motions getting ready for work. His phone buzzes in his pocket throughout his shift, and he exercises the fact that he’s at work to not check his phone. When he’s on the bus home, he swiftly erases the conversation without reading any of it. That would curb any curiosity.  
It’s when Jaebeom is on the bus home, in the throes of hypothetical conversations, when Jaebeom makes a very big, very bad realisation.

He has a lot of hypothetical conversations since he’s shut a fair few people out of his life. Usually it’s Jinyoung, making sarcastic commentary about the scenery around him. Like that there is an awful fence. Who would ever purposefully choose something that rots so fast. On the odd occasion it’s Jackson, who tells him to go out and do something fun, or clean his shit-sty bedroom. He ignores those conversations.

Yet lately, it’s Mark in his head. They don’t have friendly conversations. Jaebeom imagines cutting him down with biting remarks. Mark swears and cries. _Why did you kiss me?_ Jaebeom asks. Mark stands in his bedroom doorway where Youngjae once did. _Why did you let me?_ Mark sobs. Why _did_ Jaebeom let him? Fuck, Jaebeom thinks, eyes staring unfocused on the seat in front of him. He can remember the exact reasoning. Weak reasoning, but at least it was something. Take Mark’s mind off it. Truly though, that would have sufficed for one or two accidental kisses, except then Mark drew his fingers down his front to massage the inside of hip. The memory gives him chills. Jaebeom wants to go back in time and give Mark an earful. Mostly though, he wants for his dick to not have driven him to want more. He was lonely and horny enough to fuck his best friend’s fiancé.

Nothing hits harder than the punch to the gut he receives every time Mark texts. His phone buzzes, and he reflexively goes to delete it, when he reads the sender is Jinyoung.  
>Has Mark texted you?  
Jaebeom isn’t clear on how to respond, since Mark /has/, but Jaebeom doesn’t know what about. God knows, if Jinyoung ever found out what happened, his life would be over faster than he could blink. Jinyoung is his only constant. His rock. He knows he owes Jinyoung an awful lot for bringing him back from the brink after Youngjae left. No amount of _That’s what friends do_ s ever quells the fear that if their roles ever reversed, Jaebeom isn’t sure he could do the same. If Jinyoung finds out, Jaebeom isn’t sure he’d be able to get out of bed again.

< Yes, but I’ve been ignoring him.  
>Just checking ^^ If he gets annoying, just text me. I’ll keep him busy ^^  
Jaebeom knows what _busy_  implies, and fake gags to himself.

He has been crawling through his wips for inspiration since midnight, and by 3AM he’s too tired to process. Tonight is silent again, his mind wandering to the guilty depths of Mark, or Jinyoung, or anyone he’s awkwardly interacted with in the past 3 years. He shuts his laptop defeatedly, resting his head in his arms. It’s always by this time of night he self-destructs. Music isn’t worth it. He’ll never make anything out of it, just like his mom said. Like Youngjae said. While he’s busy in his plummeting self-confidence, his phone has the audacity to buzz at him. Who the fuck texts him at 3AM? Through his sleep-deprived eyes, he makes the mistake of reading the message before the sender.  
>I’m going to do something stupid. I know you don’t care. just thought someone should know  
It’s Mark.

Jaebeom should delete the message, but the defeated seriousness of it makes him hesitate.  
< What are you going to do?  
>please don’t pretend like you care now.  
Jaebeom honestly wishes he didn’t care, but something is wrong.  
< Tell me.  
Mark doesn’t respond, and Jaebeom starts wandering into dark and dangerous territory. From Jinyoung’s text yesterday, he thought their fiasco would be over by now. Though thinking about it, checking if Mark was still texting him was a little suspicious. Did Mark slip up? Oh god. He still isn’t responding. His fingers move to call him. It rings, and rings.

Jaebeom is two milliseconds from full blown panic, when Mark finally fucking picks up.  
“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Jaebeom asks. Mark’s sobbing echoes, like he’s in the bathroom. He doesn’t know what sort of psychopath is able to fake that.  
“No!” Mark whines, masking his awful crying sounds in his shirt or hand. Then it’s not that. What else could Mark be upset about?

Mark breathes in hard, before saying, “Sorry, I woke you. Go back to sleep, Jaebeom.”  
“Wait, what?” Jaebeom says, afraid of Mark hanging up. The snivelling in the bathroom acoustics is still audible. “Mark, _what_  are you doing?”  
“You don’t care anyway.” He hangs up quicker than Jaebeom can respond.

For some reason, Jaebeom doesn’t find himself immediately swabbed in the fear of death via Jinyoung. No. Jaebeom has never heard Mark so anxious, but he knows exactly what it means. He’s going hurt himself. And there’s nothing Jaebeom can do, but lie in his bed like a coward.


	5. chorus

>I’m coming over.  
Jaebeom scrambles to put a shirt on, not wanting a repeat of anything. It’s Mark. What does he want? What is there to talk about? Jaebeom wishes he would just text or call, instead of deciding the best way to say something was in person. He decides not to dwell on the little part of him that cheers for the fact Mark clearly didn’t do anything too stupid. And that’s why Jaebeom can’t trust himself around him, even with a tonne of guilt weighing down in his shoulders. He can’t show that he cares this time. Because Mark has already wormed his way into his head- he doesn’t need him getting in any deeper.

The soft knocking breaks him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t bother checking before flinging the door open. Mark flinches. All the sentences and paragraphs Jaebeom had planned from hypothetical conversations of this moment die on his tongue. One look at him tells him he can’t not care. It‘s only the late afternoon, but he still looks as sickly as he did in the dead of the night. He’s wearing a grey turtleneck and khaki shorts, a tragic outfit that screams _throw anything on_. If it’s even possible, he looks more broken than before. He shifts from foot to foot awkwardly.  
“Can I come in?”  
Jaebeom just nods and shuts the door after him. Mark looks around like it’s the first time he’s seen Jaebeom’s apartment but doesn’t fixate on anything in particular until he turns back around. There’s a vacancy to his eyes that makes Jaebeom’s stomach squeeze.

“I thought you were going to lock the door, to be honest.”  
Jaebeom swallows, knowing full well he wanted to crawl under his covers and pretend to sleep through it.  
“I didn’t even think of that.” Mark levels him with a knowing look.  
“Why did you... ignore me? You were all I had. Jinyoung hates me and Jackson won’t pick up. I just thought I could- I don’t know. Trust you?”  
How Jaebeom imagined him saying that, and how he actually said that, are two complete opposites. He can’t stop the weight of responsibility that makes his gut ache. Mark trusted him. Why? All Jaebeom did was answer his texts. Occasionally. There was _that_ night, but surely sex isn’t a basis for trust. Mark runs his hands through his hair, raking at his scalp as he avoids Jaebeom’s eyes.

“Jinyoung told me not to talk to you.”  
Mark looks up at him in confusion, doe-eyes swimming with tears.  
“At least until everything was sorted out. It’s not, is it?” Jaebeom asks softly. Mark hides his face in his hands once he realises he can’t control it. “Come sit down,” Jaebeom says, walking carefully past him to the living room. Jaebeom hands him the tissue box, as Mark shuffles in behind him. He’s quick to blow his nose, sinking into the leather beside Jaebeom.

The dining room windows cast long shadows over Mark’s face. Jaebeom knew Mark was in a bad way, but the bags beneath his eyes are puffy and violet. His voice is flat when he speaks.  
“He said it was because you didn’t care.”  
“What?” Jaebeom asks, “I didn’t answer because I didn’t care?”  
“Do you even care about me?” It’s softly spoken, but it’s still a reminder of how shitty Jaebeom is. But if Jaebeom’s going to lie to the one person who cares about him the most, he may as well be truthful to the person he’s lying to him with.  
“Yeah.”  
Mark doesn’t react. Because he doesn’t believe him, Jaebeom thinks.

Mark chews his lips.  
“Jaebeom.”  
“Hm?”  
Mark takes in a deep breath, mumbling something incomprehensible. Jaebeom inches forward ever so slightly.  
“What did you say?”  
“I came here to show you something,” he repeats, barely louder. He breathes deeply again and slides up one of his pant legs.

A haphazard collection of dark red lines lie atop his thigh. A million thoughts run through his head at the same time that none do. Mark pulls his pant leg back down, smoothing it over as if it never happened.  
“Why?” is all that reverberates around Jaebeom’s head.  
“Jinyoung hates me. Jackson’s ignoring me. You’re ignoring me too. No one cares.”

This is what fucking up looks like, Jaebeom thinks bitterly. He has his own collection on the inside of his forearm, hidden by his closet of long-sleeved shirts. Christmas day two years ago. His mom died from carbon monoxide poisoning. She has been cooking for eight hours, the fumes from the broken oven steadily filling the room until she can’t breathe. She didn’t notice. She sat down to rest her eyes at the kitchen table, waiting for the turkey. That’s how his dad found her. He’s never been great at the whole feelings thing, and neither has his dad. Jaebeom went home cried like a baby. For about ten days, he cries and sleeps, cries and sleeps. He knows it’s ten days because Youngjae informed him as such, when he got back from Christmas at his parents. He stands in the doorway and berates him. _What were you doing? Laying in bed, feeling sorry for yourself? Did you ever think about me? How much it’d hurt finding out she died from your fucking aunt? I’m sick of you never telling me anything._ Youngjae storms out. Jaebeom falls apart even further.  
He misses the funeral.

Jaebeom shows Mark his forearm. He doesn’t know whether he’s speaking to Mark, or the memory of Youngjae.  
“I’m sorry. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have ignored you.”  
Mark hums in vague agreement, silent tears streaming down his face as he stares at Jaebeom’s arm.  
“I’m sorry too,” he finally says.  
“For what? You don’t have much to be sorry about.”  
Mark runs his fingers over Jaebeom’s fading scars as an answer.

His glassy eyes flick up to Jaebeom’s, gaze resting on his lips, before he goes back to fiddling with his tissue. Ah. He’s thinking about that night. Jaebeom wonders briefly if Mark does this to Jinyoung, and if that’s why they don’t communicate very effectively. Not that Jaebeom can talk about effective communication.

Mark breathes in, shuddering.  
“I wish I loved you,” he says, lips quirked into a bitter half-smile.  
“Why?” Jaebeom says, shrill with incredulousness. Mark shakes his head, as if that’s meant to mean anything.  
“Because you care.”  
“And Jinyoung doesn’t? You wanna know something I’ve never told anyone?”  
Mark looks up at him curiously.  
“The day Jinyoung came and told me I stunk. I was going to jump.” Jaebeom points to the sliding glass doors across from the dining room. Mark tries to thread his fingers through Jaebeom’s, but Jaebeom shakes him off.

“Sure he can be an asshole, but he loves you. Even if it doesn’t seem like it now, he really fucking cares.” Mark can’t meet his eyes. He sets the tissue box down in between them, stands, and calmly leaves. The sound of the door closing is final.

Jaebeom wishes he had the guts to ask where he was going, but he has a feeling he was going back to Jinyoung. That’s good. That’s where he’s meant to be. The pain in Jaebeom’s chest doesn’t cease. For the first time, Jaebeom thinks he might know exactly why he cares. Just what he needs: another very big, very bad realisation.

There’s the closeness he has to Jinyoung. He wants to fix things on his behalf. There’s the weird lies Mark tells. He wants to know to why in his right mind he says those things.  
The problem is, Jaebeom cares too much for it to just be out of a sense of duty, or a curiosity, or even empathy. The problem is, Jaebeom also knows exactly why.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to yell at me on [cc](https://curiouscat.me/sennyght)!


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